Nobody
by Lorena
Summary: This is just a monologue from Ron's POV. He's always one step behind everyone else. It's even worse because his best friend is famous...and Ron happens to be in love with him. Harry/Ron slash.


Title: Nobody  
  
Author: Lorena  
  
Rating: PG   
  
Category: Angst/Romance  
  
Summary: This is just a monologue from Ron's POV. He's always one step behind everyone else. It's even worse because his best friend is famous...and Ron happens to be in love with him. Harry/Ron slash.  
  
Author's Note: Ron's my favorite character, and I just had to write about him. Sorry it's so short, it only took me five or ten minutes...but I'm thinking of writing another chapter if anyone likes this, so please review...I might even make it fluffy if you want...review!  
  
I'm nobody.  
  
I accepted that fact years ago. Between my brothers, my sister and my best friends, I become, invariably, "Harry Potter's best friend" and "just another Weasley". I'll never measure up to any of them.  
  
Hermione is the top of every class she takes, even Potions. I'm not brilliant, I'm just a mediocre student at best.   
  
Bill was Head Boy, but not all stuffy and rule-abiding. Everyone loved him, and he was just cool. I'm not. No chance at being Head Boy, that job's going to be Harry's.  
  
Charlie was the Quidditch captain, but he went off to work with dragons- which is amazing in itself. I don't like dragons and I'm not that great at Quidditch, even though I love it.  
  
Percy...Perfect Percy. He always does everything right in Mum's eyes. Dad's too, for that matter. I can't seem to make either of them proud.  
  
Fred and George are always fooling around, but everybody likes them, and knows who they are. I'm not nearly as funny or clever as they are.  
  
Ginny's the only girl, and she's the youngest, so she's automatically special. Then she's absolutely beautiful, sweet and charming. I'm certainly not attractive, and I'm just somewhere in the middle.  
  
Harry...let's not get me started on Harry. Because he's the Boy Who Lived, who defeated Voldemort. He gets all the attention with everyone. I know he doesn't want it, doesn't enjoy it. But he still has it. When the spotlights are on, I'm left in the shadows. He's handsome (though he doesn't know that either). He's the hero. And I'm in love with him.   
  
He doesn't know, of course. I can't let him. Because he doesn't want me that way. Insignifigant Ron Weasley isn't good enough for him (though that's not how he'd think of it). He had a thing for Cho Chang, but she hasn't spoken to him in ages, and I don't think he likes anyone. But even if he did, it wouldn't be me.  
  
Hermione's seen me watching him a few times. I think she suspects how I feel, but she doesn't say anything. I used to like her, but she was too good for me too. She always has been.   
  
Oh, I know Harry will find out eventually. He's not blind, and I'm not being as subtle as I should. We're best friends, and he's bound to notice I'm not myself.  
  
I've heard the whispers, just like everyone else. They say I'll be his Peter Pettigrew, his betrayer. Turn on him for a bit of power, for a moment when the spotlight was on my for a change. They think I'm going to be blinded by jealousy at the wrong moment. And they have good reason to think so - I essentially deserted him in fourth year, when he needed me, all over that stupid Goblet. I've never been so ashamed of anything I've done. Ever.   
  
But they're wrong, you see. It's because I let my jealousy get the better of me once that he'll never have to worry about betrayal. That year, I learned what loneliness truly was, I learned that I'd die for him without question or regrets, I learned that there was nothing in the world more important than making him smile.   
  
His smile is sweet and boyish and so young, young like he isn't, never has been, and when he smiles I can almost forget he's endured things no adult wizard should ever see. When he smiles there's this magical aura around him that makes everything all right. When he smiles I forget the haunted look in his eyes at night.   
  
Those eyes - he has these amazing eyes. They're emerald green, and that's a very apt description. They sparkle just like emeralds. Not that I've ever seen an emerald, you understand - with my family's money, I would have had that opportunity when, exactly? But that's not my point. I saw him cry once...and I began to understand how beautiful he truly is. I held him, I soothed him, and I admired him. The way the tears in his eyes and on his cheeks shone in the dim moonlit dormitory, the way his lips moved when he spoke. I wanted to kiss those tears away, beautiful though they were, and I wanted to touch those slightly pink lips with my own. I knew it'd never happen - I'd never risk it. But I dreamed it.  
  
I'm nobody, but since he's still there, it's okay.  
  
Finis. 


End file.
